Warrior's Blue
by Amerachan
Summary: He swore that he would bring them honour and glory. Aoshi reflects on things as he decides his next move.


Warrior's Blue

Beshimi; he was a small and quick man, lazy at times and a screw up just as often, but he was fast and deadly accurate with his poison arrows.

Hyottoko; a large man, as tall as a house and just as wide, but strong and formidable. His fire technique was the last magic trick ever seen to those who could not see behind its mask.

Shikijo; muscular and strong, his muscles were indeed something to behold. The scars that covered his body proved that he was determined to do whatever he needed to do, no matter what.

Han'nya; an average sized man, he hid behind the mask of a demon's face. Behind the mask was also a demon's face; he had cut his nose, slashed his ears, crushed his cheekbones and burned off his lips. He turned himself into a monster so that, as a spy, he could wear any face atop his own.

These were the members of the Oniwabanshu that society could not, no, would not accept into their world. Indeed, these were the members that, when the Oniwabanshu disbanded after the Bakumatsu, were rejected by the people, due to their specific traits, the traits that made them valuable to the Oniwabanshu. As a result, they stayed with their _Okashira_, their leader, who had taken over the group at the age of fifteen. They were the most loyal men that their Okashira could ever ask for. However, loyalty and strength, no matter how great it is, cannot stand a chance to the mighty power of the Gatling Gun. No amount of muscle could ever compare to that metallic monster.

* * *

"Noooo!" 

The Okashira of the Oniwabanshu sat up in a bed of leaves, a cold sweat dampening his body, already have frozen by the early spring morning. He looked around; this was not the Takeda Kanryu mansion at all. This was the forest where he and his comrades lay.

Surrounding him was only trees and the sounds of birds singing and flitting through the foliage. Across the small clearing where he now sat was where his four comrades lay. Their presence was marked by four tall, flat stones jutting roughly from the ground.

"I'm sorry," nineteen year-old Shinomori Aoshi, Okashira of the Oniwabanshu, whispered with guilt. "Another day passes, and still I can offer you no glory. Nevertheless, I will keep my promise that one day, I _will_."

_Why have I dreamt again about that night?_ Aoshi wondered as he washed his face in a nearby stream. _It's been eight months since it happened, and still, the dreams plague me as though it had happened but a week ago._

The horrors of that night long past, when each of his four most loyal men, Beshimi, Hyottoko, Shikijo, and Han'nya all fell to the frightening power of Takeda Kanryu's Gatling gun. It was a weapon first created in the West, by a man named Gatling in the year 1861. During the Civil War in the West, the Union Army saw amazing success with it, and it soon found its way all around the world. Aoshi was aware that Minister Kawai Tsugunosuke used it himself during third battle of the Boshin War. Obviously, Takeda had obtained it through business with the black market.

As his comrades lay fallen in the ballroom of Takeda Kanryu's mansion, after being mowed down by relentless gunfire, gunfire that was meant to hit him, he could feel nothing other than guilt. Takeda had meant to kill _him_ with that gun, and would have, if those four, the only four members of the former Oniwabanshu that could not live normal lives in society, had not shielded him with their bodies. One by one he had watch them become filled with lead, watched as they smiled before they died, being thankful that their last actions under his leadership was to protect him.

He couldn't have left them there, in those cursed halls of that mansion, only to be thrown in a mass grave by the police, with no name, no significance. He also knew that he could not have carried them out of the mansion by himself, especially not all at once. Hyottoko was not a man that could be carried by a single man, and nor was Shikijo. And so, he resolved to take their heads. As he stood on the wall that surrounded the Takeda mansion, he could not help but feel as though he was doing too little for them.

It was then that Himura Kenshin, the Battousai, came out with his companions. There stood the man that was a legend during the war that tore Japan apart before the Meiji Era. It was to this man that Aoshi had lost, and it would be from this man that he would take the glory that his comrades so rightly deserved. He would defeat the Battousai and bring honour to them.

"Until I come to kill you, don't let anyone beat me to it."

* * *

"Would you like more, Sir?" a young woman asked, a plate of dumplings in her hands. 

"Yes, thank you," Aoshi replied listlessly. He had found himself at this outdoor vendor by the time the sun had fully risen, and before he knew why he was there, he had ordered what he would call his breakfast for the day. The young woman placed long rows of skewered dumplings on his plate, bowed and walked away to service other customers.

The morning had warmed considerably since he had been awakened by the horrors of his nightmare, and he now shed his long tan overcoat, revealing a considerably more form-fitting indigo coloured outfit. He watched through dark bangs as clouds rolled on their bellies along the blue sky. The sun peeked through these clouds, and illuminated the world so brightly that it seemed as though the great ball of fire in the sky was only metres away.

"It's going to be a hot day," the young waitress commented as she replaced his empty cup of tea with a fresh one.

"Thank you," Aoshi replied quietly and then: "Yes, it looks like it... It'll be summer soon."

The woman only nodded and bowed as she took her leave. Aoshi freed his last skewer of its remaining dumplings and took the cup of tea in hand.

"I'm only alive because of you," he whispered. "And here I am; not trying to bring honour to you, but enjoying a cup of tea in the morning sun. What right do I have to have continued living, when you died to protect me if I can't do anything? "

He soon paid his bill and walked away from the establishment without another word to anyone. He found himself walking the wooded path to Kyoto, his overcoat in his arms. The forest was alive with birds and other animals, and he watched as a small family of foxes scurried out of his way and into the brush.

Later that night, he was still walking through the trees. It would be another two and a half days before he reached Kyoto, and Aoshi sat upon a small stump to rest his feet. He glanced upwards, through the branches of surrounding trees and to the stars.

"It is ridiculous of me to think that the four of you, being spies and traitors and murderers, would not fall to Hell at your death," he whispered. "But I would like to think that, due to your sacrifices, Buddha would grace you into the heavens."

He stood again and walked onwards, refusing sleep. He did not wish for the dreams to haunt him once again. He would go mad, he thought, if he had to continue to see those images in his head, night after night.

* * *

When Shinomori Aoshi arrived in Kyoto, he first visited a bath house. When he removed his shirt and sat in the bath, a young man next to him notices the scars that covered his well-defined torso. 

"Wow!" the young man exclaimed in awe. Aoshi took no notice of him. "If you have that many scars, that must mean you're a great warrior! But you're so young. You couldn't have gotten them during the war. How did you get all those scars?"

"Training. And the war," Aoshi replied simply.

"But... you're so–"

"Young. I know. But that is the truth. Whether you believe it or not is your choice."

The young man was silent for a moment as he watch the tall man bathe, his movements were fluid; methodical, in everything he did.

"You're so cool!" the man finally exclaimed. "One day, I want to be like you! A strong warrior, and be famous and known as the strongest."

"I will be the strongest," Aoshi said. His tone was laced with venom and challenge, and the man stopped, his smile fading. Aoshi stood, dried, clothed and walked away.

"I will be the strongest," he repeated to himself as he walked the streets of Kyoto. It wasn't long before he found himself in front of the Aoi-Ya, the Kyoto headquarters for the Oniwabanshu. He stood in front of that building for a long moment, knowing that Okina, Kuroko, Shirojo, Masukami and Omime, all longtime members of the Oniwabanshu, were in there. He was also well aware that Misao, who had been but a child when she last saw him, was in residence in that building. Without really thinking, he took a step towards the Aoi-Ya, and then halted. Even though he was the Okashira, he should not be there.

He turned away and continued to walk down the street, unaware that a young girl, age sixteen, had caught sight of him whilst she was staring out the window of the Aoi-Ya.

* * *

He was aware that he was being followed by the time he had gotten fifty yards from the Aoi-Ya. He could hear frantic footsteps and the heavy breathing of a young woman behind him. When he reached the path just outside of the city, with trees lining the one side. It was then that the footsteps disappeared and became rustles in the bushes and brush. 

"Why are you following me?" Aoshi asked at last when he stopped, facing the rolling hills and the valley opposite his stalker.

"I..I can't believe it's you," stammered the young girl as she stepped from the trees. Aoshi could hear her voice trembling.

He turned around and recognized the girl instantly. There was Misao Makimachi, age sixteen, staring at him, tears in her eyes.

"Misao..."

"Aoshi-sama! I've waited for you to return for so long!" she cried as she ran towards him. When she reached him, she threw herself into his arms and cried. Aoshi only placed one arm around her shoulders and looked down at her, his expression as devoid of emotion as it always was.

Before long, the two were sitting on a small bench, eating lunch at a road-side vendor. The two remained silent whilst they ate for a very long time.

"So, what brings you to Kyoto?" Misao asked quietly.

"I really don't know," Aoshi replied simply.

"I see... Oh hey! I heard that you fought Himura-san! That's so cool!"

"You mean the Battousai. I didn't fight him. I _lost_ to him."

"Aoshi-sama..."

"Beshimi, Hyottoko, Shikijo, Han'nya...they're all dead."

Misao gasped, and nearly choked on her food. Sure, Kenshin had told her this, but she had desperately wanted it to be a lie. But hearing it from Aoshi, she new that it was all true.

"They died protecting me from Takeda Kanryu's Gatling Gun. I'm alive because of them. I...I vowed to brings honour to their names. And I will."

Another awkward silence followed. Aoshi stared at the ground, whilst Misao watched her idol carefully.

"He defeated my best technique. He stopped my Kaiten Kenbu. I didn't think he could possibly see through it, but he did."

Misao remained silent. She knew that, if prompted too hard, Aoshi would retreat back into his mind and say nothing more.

"I should go," he said suddenly, standing.

"Where to?" Misao asked, standing with him.

"I don't know. Somewhere."

"Let me come with you!"

"No."

"But why! I won't be a burden on you, I promise! Please! I've waited for you for so long! I don't want you to ever leave me again!"

"I'm sorry," Aoshi said as he walked away. "But don't follow me. Stay here with Okina and the others. That's an order, from your Okashira."

With that, he walked swiftly away. In the back of his mind, he could see Misao, and his vision was aided by the sound of her crumpling to the ground and sobbing. Also in his mind, he could see four unmarked graves, nothing but stones. No one could possibly know what was beneath them, except for him.

Distantly, he heard Misao cry out for him, begging him not to leave her again. He continued to walk. The sound was that of a Warrior's Blue.

* * *

So this is Warrior's Blue! I had an idea for writing for Aoshi for a while now, and it wasn't until yesterday -or maybe it was the other day- to put it into play. I was really excited to write for him, but I was afraid that, since there's not much focus on him, I would get lost as to what to write and end up repeating myself incessantly.  
To be perfectly honest, I had to do a lot of referencing in this story, since it's been forever since I've seen the anime and read the manga, so I had to use Vol's 4, 10, 12 and 13 for reference, since I couldn't remember things like Okashira, or the Aoi-Ya. It made me incredibly frustrated that I didn't recall these things, but it was easy to remember once I read a few things over. I actually almost called the Aoi-Ya Okinawa, which is a town or city or something to that effect in Japan. In any case, it was one of the stories that I ended up needing the most reference for.  
I hope you enjoyed this story. For those of you who don't know, 'Warrior's Blue' is the official name for Aoshi's theme. Also, Kaiten Kenbu means 'Dance of the Wheeling Sword.'  
Until next time, Ja ne! 


End file.
